


Wake-Up Call

by elounarry



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drabble, M/M, Morning Head, Shiro’s Birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 04:50:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18189980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elounarry/pseuds/elounarry
Summary: Shiro wakes on the receiving end of a birthday gift





	Wake-Up Call

**Author's Note:**

> Will ever write anything in a decent amount of time? We will never know
> 
> I wrote this like a week after Shiro’s birthday but I never posted it...because I forgot about it lol I’ll consider this a _very _belated birthday fic__

A vast plane of stars lay out before Shiro. It’s not the astral plane, he knows this. He’s not surrounded by infinity and cosmic anomalies. No, he recognizes these constellations anywhere. The familiar strip of cloudy stars that split the black sky in half is dense and brings Shiro a sense of awe that he’s never lost in his travels. There’re pin pricks of light that slowly peak over the rocky horizon until they’ve risen over it, and it takes Shiro a moment to realize they’re just a couple of the thousands upon thousands of stars Shiro’s gazing at.

He knows he’s in the desert. He doesn’t feel the cold night wind or smell the dry dust of volcanic rock, but he feels the peace and comfort of being in a familiar place, of looking at the stars in isolated areas, away from the city, people, and all the pollution. 

There’re sounds of nocturnal prey roaming for it’s dinner, scuttling across rock bed in the dark of the night. It’s almost out of place, Shiro having begun to get used to how silent and barren the openness of space can be. But he’s not anxious or on edge of some impending doom. He has no worries of a war ship descending into the atmosphere and blasting all living life off it. 

No, he feels warm. A warmth that has began to spread from his chest down to his groin in a pleasant wave. He palms himself then, rubbing a hand back and forth to gain friction and keep that white heat and to create more. His vision merges then, darkness turning into light, a wash of blurriness taking over his vision. He tries to blink it away, but it just brings more light, stars and desert turning into a gray ceiling with gray walls. His bedroom. 

‘A dream,’ he thinks to himself. Except the pleasure hasn’t stopped and he takes in a heavy breath as a wet warmth takes him from the tip all the way down to the base, a deft hand moving in tandem. He glances down and sees a lump under the covers. The lump his moving up and down almost comically and Shiro knows exactly who’s under there. He grabs onto the hem of the covers and lifts it to reveal a dark head of hair and pale fingers wrapped around him. The mouth pops off him and he meets the sight of two beautiful lavender eyes and a bright, red mouth. He looks far too proud of himself. 

“Happy birthday,” Keith rasps out, also clearly woken up only minutes ago. Shiro smiles down at him and runs a a flesh hand through Keith’s hair and down his cheek. Keith leans into it and places a kiss on his palm, gentle and airy. He pulls away from the hand to put his mouth back on the need in front of him. Shiro groans as Keith sucks on the tip, swirling his tongue around then taking more of him in his mouth. His hand moves in perfect unison and Shiro throws the comforter off of them so he can get a better view. He can see Keith leaking between his own legs and Shiro has the urge to bring Keith up to straddle him so he can wrap his hands around the both of them and get each other off.

But Keith seems content where he is, and Shiro’s not complaining. To wake up with Keith on his knees eager to get his mouth on him, Shiro’s not going to stop him. It’s only happened a handful of times and they already gave each other the okay to do this, but Shiro is pleasantly surprised and stupidly in love with this man.

Keith hums around him and Shiro moans at the vibrations it sends through his body. He’s straining not to thrust into Keith’s mouth, to let him go at his own pace, but Keith is warm and wet and he wants to buck wildly as if Keith were on his hands and knees with Shiro behind him, giving it to him like he knows he likes it. 

He has one hand in Keith’s hair and the other in the sheets, the fabric rumpling in his grip and threatening to tear. Keith has learned him well, finding his sweet spots and what pressure works best, how certain motions with his wrist leaves Shiro jerking and on the verge of orgasm. Sometimes just the image alone of Keith’s mouth stretched wide around him and taking him down has Shiro needing to pull back and not come too soon.

But today’s a special day. It’s his birthday, the sun is shining though the ATLAS’ window and painting Keith in the yellow of the morning sun, and he’s so deep in Keith he feels the tip of Keith’s nose touching his pelvis. Shiro sounds almost pained when he groans at the tightness around him, but he’s far from being in pain and his restrain breaks when he sees Keith put a hand on himself and moans at the contact. Both of his hands find Keith’s head and holds on as he begins moving his own hips in and out of Keith’s mouth. It’s sloppy and makes a mess but Shiro doesn’t care as Keith moves his hand over himself faster, arousing noises muffled by the repeated intrusion, taking in breaths when he can. He doesn’t pull hard on Keith’s hair, but he has a good grip on it, using it to keep himself level and keep Keith in place.

His eyes dart back and forth between the bulge in Keith’s mouth and the way Keith gets himself off. Keith always takes him so well, loving the stretch of Shiro inside him, and it leaves Shiro breathless sometimes to watch Keith move and be so pliant. Sometimes the view is just as good as the feeling. The molten heat in his stomach is building and he knows he’ll be coming soon. It’s when Keith’s hand latches onto Shiro’s thigh, nails digging in, Keith’s voice pitching up and body stiffening, white shooting out on the bed sheets, that Shiro feels the inevitable tightening of his own body. Like coils being suppressed then released, Shiro shoots his load into Keith’s mouth with a shout, hips still moving until he can’t take the sensation anymore.

He directs Keith’s head off and watches as he takes in a lungful of air. There’s cum on his lips and down his chin, but Shiro knows between his legs doesn’t look any better. Keith crawls to the side of the bed, motions slow and languid, and grabs tissues from the nightstand. He wipes himself off first. From his mouth down to his own mess, then moves to clean Shiro up. Keith looks beat, exhausted, and he’s still taking care of him. Shiro runs a hand over Keith’s back. 

“Thank you, baby. I could’ve done this, you look worn out.”

“I am worn out,” Keith smiles with a tired upturn to his lips, “but you’re always taking care of me, it doesn’t hurt to have me take care of you. Especially on you’re birthday.”

Shiro chuckles. “Well, thank you, then.” His birthday has always been something of an odd experience, never celebrating on the actual date but still receiving well wishes and gifts. Or in this case, blowjob wake-up calls. It’s been a couple years now since he’s had what could be considered a “normal” birthday, it’s almost inconceivable to think he woke up in a real bed, on Earth, with the most beautiful person he knows. 

Shrio smiles, feeling warm and comfortable. After they’re as clean as they’re going to get and kisses are exchanged, Shrio pulls Keith down to lay on his chest, wrapping him up close to him. He places a kiss on his head then nuzzles into him. “I love you, Keith.”

“Love you, too, Shiro.” Even without the blowjob, Shiro believes that just waking up next to Keith is the best gift he could’ve received.


End file.
